


don't the best of them bleed it out

by Poteto



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Murder, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Past Abuse, Warning: the regent is in this, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 16:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10723080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poteto/pseuds/Poteto
Summary: Laurent doesn't consider himself particularly lucky, but the fact that there's someone out to actually kill him is a bit ridiculous.Although it is not as ridiculous as the fact that there is a certain superhero that saves him every time.This Lois Lane bullshit? Laurent didn't sign up for it.





	don't the best of them bleed it out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynnwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnwrites/gifts).



> Will I ever write a gift and not lose control of it completely? Apparently not. I don't know how this story ended up this long, but welp. What can one do.  
> Happy birthday, Lynn!! I hope you find this fun to read! Also friendly reminder that I am Charls, you are Charls and we can all be Charls if we believe in ourselves.  
> Also also, if you're wondering why it took me so long to finish, it was because I did not want to write the scene that had the regent in it. I hope he rots in hell.

 

Laurent was never a superhero fan.

He keeps his opinions to himself, since most people think heroes are the best thing to ever happen. While Laurent acknowledges that heroes do a lot of good for society, there is a part of him that will always be bitter about their existence. How many times had he wished to be saved? How many times had he wished to awake any sort of superpower to save himself? Laurent was almost 15 when he accepted that the only hero that would come for him was long gone and he had to get by with what he had, even though he was pretty much powerless.

Laurent has grown into a very skeptical young man that doesn’t waste his time thinking someone will come and save him. He learns how to deal with his problems himself. Someone who won't complain, but will face his issues alone.

On that Monday, there seems to be some sort of higher power testing his resolution.

He deals with a sleepless night, after one of his recurring nightmares keeps him from getting some rest. He deals with his stupid coffee maker breaking and forcing him to face a day of college classes without any caffeine in his system. He deals with his annoying classmate that insists on flirting with him even though he makes clear he’s not interested. He deals with the always unpleasant weekly call from his uncle. He deals with the professor that lost his paper and insists he had never handed it in for starters. And then he spends most of his afternoon in the library working on an assignment for a class he didn’t care about, but needed if he wanted to graduate.

When he’s going home late at night, his stomach achingly remembering him he shouldn’t have skipped dinner, Nicaise calls him with his voice obviously strained but refusing to admit there is something wrong. Laurent doesn’t think this day can get any worse.

Laurent is wrong.

“And finally,” Nicaise is saying idly, “I made a girl cry today.”

Laurent smiles to himself as he walks the short distance from the campus library to his apartment. Even if both Nicaise and Laurent refuse to talk about their problems, their conversations are always mutually beneficial.

“Did she deserve it?” Laurent asks.

“Of course she did! What do you take me for? She was being a bitch.”

“Language,” Laurent reprehends. “And I don’t know, you can be kind of a bitch, too.”

“You are the last person on Earth that can call me out for saying bad words. And you certainly can’t do that right before you call me a bitch.”

“I can say bad words. I’m an adult.”

“Laurent, you’re 20 and I’m pretty sure I’m more mature than you.”

“Oh? Do you have evidence to back up that affirmation?”

“Yeah? Evidence A: your only friend is your 14 year old neighbor.”

“You assume too much. I wouldn’t call you a friend. More like an annoyance I check every now and then. For scientific reasons.”

“Now, who’s being a bitch?”

Laurent grins even though he knows Nicaise can’t see him and crosses the street. Their familiar banter is the only thing that keeps him from lying down and deciding that the sidewalk is a great sleeping spot.  He wants to get home as soon as possible, so he decides to take a shortcut.

“Are you coming home?” Nicaise asks. “I’m crashing tonight.”

Laurent stops walking. “Your mother?”

“Don’t mind her.”

“Nicaise…”

“Listen, can I sleep on your couch or not? If I can’t tell me now so I can find another place to sleep.”

Laurent sighs. He turns on a corner, trying to walk faster now. “Of course you can, Nicaise. I just don’t think your mother is going to be happy that you’re spending the night out again.”

“She’s never happy.”

Laurent opens his mouth to answer, but he freezes. A few steps ahead, a man glares at him. He’s taller than Laurent, broader than Laurent and his arms are crossed in a way to show off his strong arms. He’s not big enough to completely block the path, but he might as well be. His posture doesn’t seem friendly. Laurent decides he wants to avoid that – after the day he’s had, he’d prefer not to test his luck – and he makes an about-face. He finds himself staring at another man unmistakingly staring straight at him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, lowering his phone. He hears Nicaise’s muffled voice calling his name in confusion, but he can’t answer.

“Hey there.” The man grins. He has a golden tooth. “We were looking just for you.”

Laurent’s blood goes cold. “Are you sure? Maybe you’re mistaking me for another person.”

“Laurent de Vere, aren’t ya?” Gold Tooth stalks closer.

There is a beat in which Laurent realizes this isn’t a regular robbery. His brain quickly jumps from one possible explanation to another and he struggles to keep his attention in the present. Get rid of these guys first, analyze the situation later.

“Hmm, no,” he says, his voice surprisingly even considering how scared he is. “Pretty sure you got the wrong guy. Actually, my name is Charls.”

“Really? I think you look a lot like the guy we are looking for.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that. I hear that all the time, really. Don’t know who this Laurent person is, though. Maybe he’s my long lost twin?”

As he speaks, he tries to assess his surroundings without being obvious about it. He has pepper spray somewhere in his bag, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to reach for it. He’s in a narrow alley and his best chance of getting away is going past the guy behind him. He’s confident he can outrun them, but if one of them catches him, then he’s doomed. He clutches at his bag, discretely weighing the heavy books and already forming a plan.

“Well,” Gold Tooth says, “since Laurent isn’t here, I guess Charls will have to do.”

Laurent is used to bad days. He’s used to dealing with antagonistic situations. But this? Whatever this is? Kidnapping, assault, whatever? Fuck that. Fuck that hard. He turns and darts towards the man who was behind him, who seems to be expecting as much. He opens his arms as if to catch Laurent, but curses when Laurent’s heavy bag flies towards his face. Laurent manages to run past him and he’s relieved for two blissful seconds before someone grabs his arm and efficiently throws him on his back.

There was a third man waiting.

Well, this is bad, he thinks to himself. His first attempt to get up is quickly interrupted when the big, muscular guy – the one that was hit by his bag – kicks him in the ribs. Laurent gasps in pain.

“ _Bitch_ ,” the man spits, holding a bloody nose.

“Well, they did tell us he was gonna put up a fight. Boss said he’s a rebellious one,” gold teeth says somewhere above Laurent.

Holding his own stomach and curled up on the floor, Laurent thinks he knows what this is. He has grown to be quick to think the worst of people and to come up with the nastiest ideas. He thinks maybe he’s known what was happening in the moment his attackers called him by his name, but he refused to believe until then. Until the man called him rebellious. The word sent a wave of nausea unrelated to the kick in his ribs, because this was not the first time he was called that.

_I only want what’s best for you, Laurent. You were such a lovely boy. It pains me that you’d grow up to become so rebellious._

A hand grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to sit up shakes him from his dark thoughts.

“Don’t take it personally, sweetheart,” the man who first knocked him is talking now. “We are just doing our jobs.”

“I have to take it personally, since it’s me you’re attacking,” Laurent manages hoarsely.

“Shut his smart mouth,” Bloody Nose demands.

“Now,” a fourth voice says from above, “that wouldn’t be a nice thing to do, would it?”

The hand in his hair disappears so quickly Laurent almost falls over. He manages to catch himself on one hand, his free arm still wrapped around his stomach. The string of curses his attackers let out pretty much reflects Laurent’s thoughts as he tries to process what he’s seeing.

The newest arriver shouldn’t have been able to surprise them, considering how outrageous is his red uniform. The drawings in his chest are made to be similar to a Greek armor and his crimson cape floats gently behind him. His bare arms are even more impressive than Bloody Nose’s. The most disturbing thing about him, however, is that his shiny boots are floating several centimeters from the ground.

“ _Crimson Gladiator_ ,” one of Laurent’s attackers hisses, as if he’s some sort of cliché comic book villain.

Unlike comic book villains, however, the men aren’t stupid enough to attack an invulnerable flying man wearing a warrior costume. Instead they turn around and try to run, completely forgotten about Laurent. Gladiator sighs and turns his masked face to Laurent.

“Wait here, will you? I’ll come back to help you.”

Laurent doesn’t say anything, but Gladiator doesn’t seem to be waiting for a response. He flies after Laurent's attackers.

For a moment, Laurent is too shocked to move. Only when he hears distant-ish screaming and punching he recovers enough to give himself a mental shake. He forces himself to stand on his numb, trembling legs and pulls a face when his ribs ache. That is definitely going to bruise.

 _Nicaise_ , he thinks, fully aware that the boy must be out of his mind with worry and he manages two stumbling steps toward where he dropped his phone.

“That should take care of it until the police comes pick them up,” a warm voice says behind him. “Hey, are you hurt? Here, let me help you.”

Laurent slaps his hand away when the hero attempts to offer him support. He sees brown eyes widening in surprise and then warming up in sympathy is just a few seconds.

“It’s all right, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he promises. “I’m here to help.”

“Fuck off, will you?” Laurent croaks.

Yes, he’s being ungrateful. He’s heard a lot about Crimson Gladiator in the local news and, as far as he’s aware, this guy is the superhero equivalent of warm hugs, puppies and justice and he certainly isn’t the one to blame for Laurent’s issues. Nonetheless, Laurent is bitter towards all superheroes and, saved or not, he’s still recovering from an attempted assault and he’s pretty sure these men were after him because his uncle told them to. He’s not exactly in the mood to be pleasant.

“All right, all right.” Gladiator lifts his hands in surrender. “But are you okay? I could take you to the hospital.”

Laurent ignores that and crouches down to pick up his phone. The screen is cracked. Nicaise must be freaking out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. What are his priorities? First, make sure Nicaise isn’t doing something stupid, like going out and looking for him. Second, finding out if his ribs are broken, because it certainly feel like they are. He painfully reaches for his bag.

“No hospitals.”

“If you’re fine, I can take you to the police station so you can—”

“No police,” Laurent cuts him off. “I need to go home.”

“Of course! I can take you there safely.”

Laurent glares at him. Gladiator’s winning smile falters a little.

“I’m fine. Thank you for your help. Shouldn’t you be taking those guys to prison or whatever?”

“They’re taken care of. I’ll deal with the police later. You’re my priority now.”

How obnoxious. Laurent is already walking away. “I’m taken care of, too. You saved my ass. Thank you.”

Gladiator blinks several times, taken aback. He’s probably more used to swooning and praising when he gets his job done. Laurent thinks he’s finally going to be left alone, but it only takes a few seconds before Gladiator recovers and smoothly flies to his side.

“In a hurry to get away from here? That’s understandable—”

“There’s someone waiting for me!” Laurent glares daggers at him, annoyed that he’d assume Laurent is shaken by this incident.

Which, well, he is, but that doesn’t mean he wants anyone to know he was affected.

“Oh,” for a second Gladiator looks disappointed. “Of course you do.” And then he forces his blinding smile to appear again. “Well, why didn’t you say sooner? Where do you live?”

Laurent lets out a shameful yelp when Gladiator literally sweeps him off his feet. Being carried Lois Lane style wasn’t in his plans.

“Fuck—” Laurent turns his cold glare to the hero and, not for the first time, laments his lack of superpowers. “If you ever grab me without my permission again, I’m going to kick your balls so hard it won’t matter you’re made of steel or whatever.”

Gladiator blinks in disbelief and Laurent expects to be dropped like a bag of garbage. Instead, the superhero seems embarrassed behind the mask. “Of course,” he says. “I’m sorry. Can I still take you home, though? I don’t think you’re fine enough to be alone right now.”

Laurent takes a deep breath. He regrets it, because the dirty alley smells like garbage and piss. He decides that the sooner he gets home the better and flying is definitely faster than walking. He sighs in defeat.

He tells Gladiator his address. He’s rewarded with a row of straight white teeth.

In any other situation, Laurent thinks he’d love to fly. Gladiator hesitates before he gains speed, not so subtly checking Laurent’s expression for displays of fear. Finding none, he darts across the sky and the cold wind helps Laurent to think with more clarity. It doesn’t last long, though, since Laurent lives pretty close.

They land right in front a pale faced Nicaise, who was clearly hurrying outside to go looking for Laurent. Upon seeing them, Nicaise lets out an impressive string of curses.

“God fucking damn it, Laurent! Who attacked you?”

“I’m fine,” Laurent says shortly as he’s put on the ground again.

“Oh,” says Gladiator. “This is the someone who was waiting for you?”

Is it Laurent or does he sound relieved? “Yes. Why?”

“Nothing! Nothing, just… glad you don’t have to be alone. Your little brother?”

“Fuck no!” Nicaise butts in. “Did you save him? Where are the people who attacked him?”

Laurent stares at Nicaise, frowning at the oddness of his questions. But then, just like Laurent, Nicaise has been through some things no child should have to face. And he knew more about Laurent’s uncle than most people Laurent knew. Nicaise is a smart kid and he probably would have no problem figuring out what really happened.

“Chained to a lamppost and waiting for the police to pick them up,” Gladiator answers. “They won’t bother again and I’ll make sure of it.”

Nicaise doesn’t seem convinced. Laurent isn’t, either. Gladiator seems to notice the hesitation on their faces and Laurent decides it’s past time to get away.

“Well, thank you again,” Laurent says, recovered enough that he remembers to be polite. “We should probably get some rest now.”

“Right. I’m glad everything turned out okay. Stay out of trouble!” Gladiator winks and flies away.

Nicaise and Laurent watch him disappearing.

 

Laurent describes vaguely what happened in the alley to Nicaise and they don’t talk anymore about it. Nicaise, whose pale cheek is slowly bruising from whatever fight he had with his mother before running to Laurent’s apartment, insists in sleeping in Laurent’s bed, because it’s more comfortable than the couch and there is plenty of room. Laurent lets him and doesn’t say anything about the way the boy clutches his hand at his sleeve in his sleep, as if making sure Laurent is still there.

Physically, he is. Laurent’s mind is several kilometers away, in his parents’ house, with his uncle. His uncle, who was the only family Laurent had left after his brother’s death so many years ago. His uncle, who had broken Laurent irreversibly again and again when he was too young to defend himself.

His uncle, who tried to get him killed.

There is no other explanation. Part of Laurent doesn’t want to believe that his uncle would do such a thing despite everything he had done before. However there is no one else that would benefit from Laurent’s dismissal. His twenty-first birthday is slowly approaching and that would mean he would be legally allowed to start using the fortune his brother and parents had left him. If he was killed before that, everything he had would be legally his uncle’s.

Part of him wonders if the men from the alley weren’t sent just to give him a scare. Maybe beat him up a bit. There is no reason for his uncle to do that, but Laurent still doesn’t want to believe his own family would want him killed.

He presses a finger to his bruised ribs and focus on the physical pain, willing the panic attack away. He stares at Nicaise’s sleeping form by his side and tries to pay attention on the boy instead.

 _He is my family_ , Laurent thinks secretly. Not my uncle. Nicaise is going to be my family. Nicaise, whom has so much in common with Laurent, a lost boy he met in his freshman year and took under his wing. Nicaise, whose abusive mother deserves to rot in jail. Laurent might not be a superhero, but he’s hell bent on saving Nicaise, even if he wasn’t able to save himself back in the day.

Laurent has everything planned: as soon as he gets his inheritance, he’ll take Nicaise away. If his mother refuses, he’ll threaten to sue her for being abusive and there is nothing she’ll be able to do. He’ll become Nicaise’s legally guardian and make sure the boy has a decent life from then on.

The fact that there is someone attempting to kill him was a setback he did not foresee.

 

Vannes leans against his shoulder and pretends to be asleep. As always, Laurent ignores her. He knows she’s just being a drama queen.

She cracks an eye open. “Really? No reaction?”

“If I stop working every time you pretend to pass out from imaginary exhaustion, I’m never getting this assignment done.”

With a sigh, Vannes sits up straight again. Laurent gives her a look that is meant to be reprehensive, but probably comes across as amused. Despite her constant complaints, Vannes never gives up these small study sessions in the campus library and Laurent is glad that she doesn’t.

He has known Vannes since they were little children and, when he found out she was going to university with him, it was only natural to become her roommate, while it was required to live in the dorms. Laurent gets wonderfully with her and her breezy personality always grounds him. She’s the living proof that someone can be raised in the middle of a bunch of backstabbing cynical people and still turns out fine and that comforts Laurent.

“Don’t you wanna do my homework for me, boo boo?” She asks, scribbling little hearts on Laurent’s textbook.

“I was going to, but then you called me boo boo.”

Vannes pouts, but Laurent doesn’t pay attention to what she says next because his attention is caught by something else. Outside the farthest window, a tall man cranes his neck as if he’s looking for something inside the library. Laurent stares at him until their eyes meet and the man’s searching expression brightens in a sincere and wide smile. Damen. Laurent pretends he doesn’t notice the small rush of pleasure upon having confirmation that the thing Damen was looking for was Laurent.

“What?” Vannes asking looking over her shoulder and trying to see what Laurent is staring at.

Damens is already gone, although not for long. No longer than one minute has passed before he enters the study room and his eyes immediately find Laurent.

“Hey,” he greets as he occupies the empty seat by Vannes’ side.

“Hi, Damen.” Vannes stares between him and Laurent, an eyebrow arched in confusion.

Damen gives her a polite smile before turning his attention back to Laurent. “I was looking for you. Did you hear? Nikandros is throwing a party the Friday after next.”

Laurent knows what that implies, but he doesn’t give in so easily. Instead, he curves his lips in a soft smile. “Good for him.”

“Come on, we had a deal,” Damen rolls his eyes. At this point, he’s too used to Laurent being difficult to be actually upset. “I did my part. It’s your turn.”

“I don’t remember agreeing with any deal.” Laurent rests his chin on his hand, his smile widening at Damen's impatience. “You offered me something I never asked for and I made no promises. Besides, you have yet to prove you actually did it.”

Damen groans. “Laurent. Come on.”

“I don’t think Nikandros will be happy to see me.”

“Well, it’s my house too,” Damen says with a shrug. “Besides you love annoying Nik. That’s not something that would stop you.”

Laurent bites back a smirk. “I make no promises.”

Damen seems to hear the hidden _yes, I’ll go_ in Laurent’s words. His blinding smile is back in no time. Satisfied, he stands up to leave before he says something that will trigger one of Laurent’s unpredictable mood swings and make him change his mind. Damen is getting infuriatingly good at dealing with Laurent and Laurent doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Ever the nice guy, Damen remembers Vannes presence and waves at her before he leaves.

“What was that? Since when you’re friends with Damen?”

Laurent shrugs nonchalantly, twirling a pen in his hair. “We shared a class last year.”

“O-kay,” Vanes says slowly. “Are you aware that he has a giant crush on you?”

Laurent has to physically stop himself from smiling like a 13 year old. “Yes.”

“And? What deal was he talking about?”

“I was mildly offended that he’s never read Lord of the Rings. He was very offended that I never go to any party. He said he’d read the main trilogy if I went to one party and stayed for a while. I never agreed to anything, but he’s been insisting he already read the books.” Laurent bites his lower lip. “He keeps making Lord of the Rings references every time we talk, but all he managed so far was convince me that he either watched the movies or googled Lord of the Rings memes.”

“Oh,” Vannes says, “my God. You have a crush on him too!”

Laurent turns his gaze away. "Crush" doesn't seem like a word strong enough to describe what he feels for Damen.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You totally do! Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re finally hitting puberty! And Damen, huh? Who would have guessed you’d go for the jock type!”

“Vannes.”

“No, don’t Vannes me, young man. And don’t bother denying. You know the most popular guy in the University is into you and you use that to get him into reading your favorite books? You’re so embarrassing, Laurent.”

“The most popular guy?” He arches an eyebrow. “What is this, a high school romcom?”

“Laurent. Stop ruining this for me. After all these years, you’re finally going to start getting laid and I’m proud of you. Let me have this.”

“I’m not getting laid.”

He ignores her loud groan and turns back to his work once more. He’s not lying. He won’t deny that he gets… distracted… when Damen is around, but nothing will ever come out of it. Laurent is a whole lot of fucked up and he’s dealing with his issues alone without dragging anyone into it. Especially someone as nice and caring as Damen, who does not – _does not_ – deserve any of this.

Laurent has enough on his plate already. Even without the whole someone-is-trying-to-murder-him thing.

 

After the incident, Nicaise starts spending an unreasonable amount of time in Laurent’s apartment, even when this gets him in trouble with his mother. Laurent know he’s doing this because he’s worried someone will try to attack Laurent when he’s alone in his apartment. Laurent doubts that, because his uncle must need it to look like an accident, but he decides not to take any chances and starts spending as much time as it is possible in the university campus. In case someone does attack him, he doesn’t want Nicaise to be there to be caught in the crossfire.

“You’re here in the library everyday?” Damen asks, appearing out of nowhere and startling Laurent into dropping the book he was taking from the shelf.

Damen catches the book before it hits the floor.

“Most of the time, yes.” Laurent says, accepting the book back. “It's unusual to see you here this often, though.”

Damen shrugs. “Gotta study every now and then if I want to graduate.”

“Oh? Something I can help you with?”

Damen grins in response and, from them on, starts showing up every other day to keep Laurent company in the library. They get a study room only to themselves and talk about anything but classes.

Those stolen moments in the library are the only time during the day in which Laurent doesn’t think about his uncle. He knows that every moment he isn’t thinking of a way of not getting murdered before his birthday is a wasted moment, of course, especially when his uncle already has the upper hand. However talking to Damen is the only thing keeping Laurent from going insane. Damen never stays for long, but, while they’re together, Laurent pretends he can have this. He almost fools himself, though only briefly.

He goes to class. Finishes his tasks as quickly and efficiently as it is humanly possible and burns his brain looking for ways of defeating his uncle.

Laurent knows he can’t attack without solid ground to stand on. If he makes a baseless accusation, his uncle will end him. He thinks of Nicaise and how he’s his only hope of getting away from his mother and how his uncle would make sure Laurent’s reputation would be completely ruined if he ever tried something against him. Laurent wouldn’t be able to become the legal guardian of a pet hamster, let alone a teenage boy.

He visits the police station to give his statement about his supposed assault only to find out the men that attacked him were already released on bail.

Out of options, Laurent is reduced to trying to anticipate his uncle’s next move without success. He knows his uncle needs to be careful. Being attacked by random men once is believable. Twice it’s too much of a coincidence. He needs to plan carefully so he won’t fail this time or else people – Laurent – might get suspicious. He needs to act fast, too, because within a month Laurent will be 21 and everything will be over.

It’s a Friday afternoon in which Laurent goes to the library more in hopes to see Damen than to study. Despite the broken air conditioning system, midterms are approaching and the building is fuller than usual. The large windows are open to let some air in, but Laurent isn’t sure if this helps or makes it worse as he waits in a long line by the windows. The hot breeze that comes from outside does nothing to make them feel better despite this being the sixth floor.

Laurent is waiting there with his pile of books, unsuspecting and defenseless, when it happens.

A muffled wordless scream is heard somewhere. No one seems to think anything of it. Then the fire alarm goes off and sprinklers start spilling water everywhere.

Girls scream and start running, some people try to protect the books from the water and the librarians futilely try to get then to calm down. It’s pandemonium.

Laurent tries to get out of the way as a group of people rush by when he feels a very deliberate hand pushing at his chest.

He doesn’t have time to look at who pushed him. He doesn’t think. He doesn’t understand.

The next thing he knows, he’s stumbling backwards and then he’s falling and falling.

Someone had pushed him out of the window.

_I am going to die._

He watches as a vertiginous speed the floor approaches and he’s very conscious that this is the last sight he’ll ever see when his body hits something solid, but soft. It takes the air out of his lungs, but suddenly he’s not falling towards the floor anymore. He’s falling forwards.

No, not falling. Flying. In the arms of someone.

Laurent gapes at his savior in confusion and the mask of the Crimson Gladiator is right in front of him. It’s crooked, though, one of the hero’s eyes completely covered, as if he was in a hurry to put it on before saving Laurent. A more attentive look reveals that Gladiator isn’t even wearing his entire uniform, but only his mask, an oversized hoodie and a pair or denim shorts.

Good god, the hero that has saved Laurent’s live twice now is wearing a pair of crocs.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Gladiator asks as he flies towards solid ground.

Laurent doesn’t answer until they’re both on their feet again. Gladiator looks up as if he’s waiting for more people to catch, but no one else falls off. There is no reason to push anyone else.

Laurent chokes on thin air, fear like a sucker punch on his lungs. He fell. He almost died. He was going to die and there was nothing he could have done about it, he wouldn’t be able to outsmart gravity into not turning him into a pretty eyed pancake on the ground.

“…rent. Laurent! Laurent, look at me! You’re all right. I got you. You’re fine.”

They’re in the narrow alley behind the building – what’s with him and meeting superheroes in narrow alleys? Does Gladiator waits for people to save next to trash cans? – but Laurent doesn’t have time to appreciate the privacy. As soon as he absorbs his environment, Laurent is falling to his knees and everything he’s eaten since breakfast comes back spectacularly. He’s vaguely aware of a gentle hand holding his hair away from his face and another rubbing his back, which is sweet of Gladiator. Laurent doesn’t have time to fully appreciate the gesture as he violently throws up.

“There, there…” Gladiator says awkwardly.

Laurent lets out what could be a miserable cough or hysterical laughter. It’s hard to say.

“I’m fine,” he croaks.

“Arguable. Can you stand? Here, let me help you.”

Laurent frowns a little, but accepts the hand that is offered to him because his legs still feel a little unsteady.

“Prone to dangerous situations, aren’t you?”

“Yeah… Accidents and stuff.” He says breathlessly. Even behind the mask, Laurent can tell Gladiator wearing a concerned expression.

“There is something bothering me about you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first I bother, believe me.”

Gladiator ignores that. “Last time we met, you didn’t want to go to the police, which isn’t unusual in a traumatic situation like that. But that boy… Your neighbor, is it? When I left you with him, he didn’t ask what happened. He asked who attacked you.”

“Well, I have a bit of an attitude problem. Some people dislike me.”

“I didn’t peg you for the clumsy type, either. How did you fell?”

Laurent doesn’t say anything.

“Laurent, is there someone threatening you?”

Laurent swallows, because he hates his uncle. He hates him with every inch of his being. Every bad thing that’s ever happened to him was caused by his uncle in some way. But he can’t prove it. He is in no way qualified to fight his uncle fairly – not that any fight is ever fair – and he certainly can’t get anyone else involved. Not even a superhero. He’s been fighting alone ever since Auguste died and that won’t change now.

“It’s fine. I’m just having an unlucky month.”

“Laurent…”

“Thank you for saving me again. I’ll try not to make a habit out of this.”

“Let me take you home, then. You need to get some rest or… Maybe drink something for your nerves? Is your stomach still upset?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Laurent lies, “and you are not taking me anywhere dressed like that.”

Gladiator looks down at his jeans and hoodie with a defeated “oh.” And then, “I could change into my full uniform, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

“No. Thank you, but I need some time alone now.”

This failed second attempt means the urgency of having him killed has only grown. Laurent needs to think and he can’t do that with an audience.

 

Laurent locks himself in his room. He can’t stand staying still, so he starts pacing back and forth around the room. He doesn’t think stomping around will properly burn the anxiety out of him, but the movement helps him to get his mind clear.

He’ll be 21 in a month. Of course his uncle is desperate. Today’s incident proves he’s in such a hurry that he’s getting sloppy. Except… Except that Laurent should have died. Had he hit the ground after falling from that height, there wouldn’t be much of him left to tell the story. It isn’t that his uncle’s plans were inefficient. It’s just that in both murder attempts his uncle had never considered that a superhero would be coincidentally hanging around, ready to save Laurent.

What will happen if Gladiator isn’t around next time?

Laurent stops walking. He gets _angry._ Isn’t enough for his uncle to ruin his adolescence? To ruin _Laurent_ beyond repair? It isn’t enough that he got a big share of the De Vere fortune himself? Does he have to get everything? Laurent is so close to being free – one more month and he won’t have to speak to his uncle ever again, he’ll be ready to use his money to finish his education and build a new life for himself – that he’s furious that his uncle is trying to take his future away from him when the closest thing from happiness he can have is just within his reach.

A buzzing sound make him jump. His phone.

On the screen, he can read the short text message from Vannes: “r u going to ur bf’s party or nah?”

Damen’s party. Laurent had completely forgotten about that. Another wave of anger and bitterness threatens to drown him, because Damen and his friendship – because Laurent doesn’t dare to ask for anything other than that – are one of the few good things Laurent has and he will not allow his uncle to ruin that, too.

The smart thing to do would be to lay low, to stay home where it’s safe. But then he had thought it was safe in the campus and he’d been wrong. Fuming, Laurent stomps his way to the bathroom for the angriest of the quick showers. If he can die – be killed – at any time, he might as well enjoy while he’s alive. Cautiousness be damned.

 

Damen’s eyes go doe wide when he sees Laurent waltzing in like he does this every night. He pushes his drink to the guy he was talking to and rushes to Laurent’s side.

“Hey!” The pleasantness of his greeting is tainted by surprise. “You’re here!”

“You sound really surprised considering that you’re the one that invited me. Was it a mock invitation and I missed the joke?”

“No! No, of course not, I’m happy you’re here. I just thought you wouldn’t come, after... Huh, I mean…”

Laurent glares. There is something he’s missing, he isn’t quite sure what though. “After what, Damen?”

“I, huh, went to see you today. At the library. But you, huh, you weren’t there, so I figured you weren’t feeling so well or something.”

“Are you saying that, if I’m not at the library, it means I’m sick?”

Damen snorts. “No, but you’ve been there an awful lot, lately.”

“So were you.”

“Yeah, well.” Damen turns his smile at him and his warm eyes leave Laurent a little too breathless, a little too paralyzed. “I don’t go there for the books.”

Laurent bites his lower lip. He has had his share of pursuers. Damen isn’t the first person to look at Laurent with desire, but he’s the first one that makes Laurent want to look back. He’s the first one that has stayed even after he bumped on Laurent’s jagged edges and the first one that seems to appreciate Laurent’s good natured snark. He’s the first one to know when to laugh at Laurent’s sarcastic remarks and when they mean Laurent is getting pissed. And, the most important of all, Damen was the first one to always leave Laurent alone when he asks to.

There is something about Damen that makes Laurent feel safe and at ease. And maybe he’s taking too much of a chance and taking a risk bigger than he can afford by trusting this man.

But, well… Cautiousness be damned, right? He might be dead before he sees official adulthood, so…

“Get me a drink, Damen. I really need to let go tonight.”

Damen’s good natured laughter makes Laurent feel all warm inside and he grabs Laurent’s hand. “As you wish, your highness. But you’re coming with me. I know damn well you won’t be left alone for long if I leave you here.”

Laurent doesn’t protest. He lets his fingers intertwine with Damen’s.

 

 

The next thing that happens is that Laurent wakes up feeling like he’s been hit by a truck. His everything hurts, his vision swims and his ears tingle, for some reason. It takes him a while to understand that the earthquake sounds he hears are steps in his room.

He sits up way too fast, startled, and the nausea resulting makes him wish for a moment whatever hitman his uncle sent after him will put him out of his misery. Instead of an assassin, however, he finds himself looking at the familiar face of a neighbor who is currently gathering pieces of clothing from the floor. Laurent recognizes the clothes as the ones he was wearing last night.

“Morning, sunshine.” Jord greets him with a smile. “It seems like yesterday was quite the adventure for you.”

With a groan, Laurent lets himself fall back on his mattress. His head throbs. “How did you get in?” he manages.

“Damen left your keys with me when he left this morning. And let me say, I’m proud of you for finally hitting it off.”

Laurent’s eyes widen. “Damen was here?”

Jord stops picking up clothes and stares at him. “Oh my God. You don’t remember?” His expression is something between amused and horrified. “Jesus, who are you and what did you do to my innocent friend?”

“Call me innocent again and I’ll hit you. As soon as the walls stop spinning, that is.”

“Fine, what did you do to my rational and cold friend who didn’t get shitfaced at parties?”

Laurent feels extra sick now. The idea of being completely blacked out is terrifying. He’s at home, sure, and he’s still wearing his underwear, but why isn’t he wearing anything else? How did he ended up here?

He ends up lashing it out at Jord, of course, because that’s his thing. Attacking innocent people when he’s down.

“Fuck you,” he says in response to Jord’s question. “Why are you here?

Jord sighs, but doesn’t seem particularly offended. Maybe he’s used to hungover people – God knows Jord has had to act as the responsible friend more times than Laurent can count – or maybe he’s just used to Laurent after all of these years being his neighbor.

 “You know, that’s no way of talking to the guy who is kindly making you coffee.”            

“Jord.”

Another sigh. “I figured you’d be dying or dead after how much you drank last night, so, since I had your keys, I decided to check on you.”

“I…” Laurent hesitates. He presses his lips closed, willing his nausea to stop so he can speak properly. He swallows once before he’s able to produce any sound again. “Thank you.”

It’s weird. To accept help and to trust. There is still a panic attack threatening to overcome him for letting himself be so vulnerable, but his agonizing headache more or less keeps him from focusing on anything else.

Jord seems surprised, but pleased by the small demonstration of humanity.

“It’s nothing,” he says with a warm smile. “You did the same for me, remember?”

“What?”

“When I broke up with Aimeric.”

“You mean when I broke your heart and stomped on it? Then made sure you wouldn’t kill yourself over it?”

“I mean when _my ex_ broke my heart and you made me realize it. And then helped me to pick up the pieces.”

“Semantics.”

“All right, is way too early for this kind of conversation. You should take a shower. Do you want some water? Aspirin?”

“Huh… Water sounds great.”

“Water it is, then.”

“Huh… Jord? How did you know how drunk I was? You weren’t at the party, were you?”

Jord hesitates. “You… might wanna check your Instagram. Only after you had some coffee, though.”

_Fuck._

As soon as Jord leaves the room, Laurent struggles to untangle himself from the mess of blankets and stumbles his way to the pile of clothes Jord left on the desk. He finds his phone in the pocket of his pants, where he left last night, and his trembling fingers manage to unlock the screen. It’s overflowing with notifications.

Laurent lets out a pained groan and launches himself back to bed. He prides himself in keeping his social media selfie-free most of the time. His profile picture on Facebook is a candid Vannes took when he wasn’t paying attention. There are barely any photos of him in his personal album and none at all in his Instagram.

Except.

Except that overnight he was marked in a bunch of other people’s pictures and God knows how many histories. In most of them, he can be seen on the background always recognizable by his golden hair and the massive familiar man by his side. In some of them he’s blearily looking at the camera. In one or two – posted by Nikandros, that motherfucker – he’s making a piece sign. In one of them he appears to be laughing – whole-heartedly laughing - at something. He doesn’t know what, but he’s under the impression it has something to do with Lord of the Rings.

And then he finds a picture in which he’s basically hanging off of Damen. Laurent almost dies on the spot. Picture Laurent has his arms around Damen’s shoulders, his face buried in the crook of his muscular neck. Damen looks perfectly calm with this, an arm looped around Laurent’s waist and a drink on other hand as he holds a conversation with someone off the frame.

Laurent once had a reputation.

Maybe it won’t matter so much when his uncle kill him.

“I told you not to look yet!” Jord yells from the kitchen upon hearing the pained sound Laurent makes.

 

 

His head is still killing him, but Laurent is nothing if not diligent and he has to meet his Literature professor to discuss a research Laurent is working on. Wearing his biggest sunglasses and carrying a large cup of the strongest coffee Jord could make, he steps outside and almost burst in flames like a vampire.

Maybe this is the rock bottom. Getting drunk to forget your abusive uncle is trying to murder you and… whatever the hell followed. Maybe things will get better after this.

And, of course, as soon as he finishing having this one (1) positive thought, a van stops in front of him and a man points a gun at his face.

“Get inside, pretty boy. Try anything funny I shoot you.”

Laurent.

Is so done.

His head aches, he’s tired and he’s having none of this life threatening bullshit right now.

Someone opens the backdoor and a man pulls him inside. Laurent should be more scared, but there only so much stress a man can handle before he breaks and Laurent’s quota ran out one attempted murder ago. Maybe that’s a good thing, though. As long as he’s angry, panic won’t cloud his judgment and he’ll probably find a way to escape.

Probably.

The man that pulled him inside is biting his lip while he uses a piece of rope to rudely tie up Laurent’s wrists. He has a golden tooth.

“Seriously?” Laurent hears himself blurting. “You guys again?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Uncle got tired of half-assed work and asked you guys to take me to him? So he can kill me himself?”

“Make him shut up, Luc _,_ ” says the driver. Laurent recognizes him too.

“How’s your nose?” He asks.

He clenches his teeth, waiting to get hit for that, but, surprisingly, all he gets is a lot of tape on his mouth.

So, apparently, he isn’t charming his way out of this. He never expected to, anyway. He’ll have to use his intelligence in another way if he wants to escape alive. Just like the first time, Laurent tries to assess what he has in his favor. He still has his phone in his pocket. He isn’t blindfolded, which suggests his uncle seriously need to find new minions. And he…

 _Thud_.

Something seems to have landed on the top of the van.

“What the hell was that?”

Laurent blinks. One time is okay. Two times is coincidence. But three times?

Gold Teeth starts shooting upwards blindly as formerly Bloody Nose screams and does his best not to lose control of the direction and Man no. 3 holds on for his dear life. Tied up, all Laurent can do is to try and not to get in the way while the gunshots sound like… well, gunshots. Which is not exactly something calming when you’re hangover.

“FLOOR IT, ARCHIE!” Gold teeth screeches.

Bloody Nose – Archie? – seems more than happy to obey and speeds up the car with all his might, his white knuckles showing he’s foolishly trying to will the car to move faster with his own determination. It’s too early in the morning for traffic, so he’s able to speed through the few cars towards the highway.

It’s all for nothing.

A hand peels off the roof of the van like it’s no different of removing a lid from a plastic box, finally revealing Crimson Gladiator in all his glory. There is more screaming. Out of desperation, Gold Teeth screams and shoots two more times only to watch the two bullets hit the hero’s wide chest and be deflected without causing as much as a scratch. It does make Gladiator angrier, though.

Laurent closes his eyes involuntarily when Gladiator reaches inside the van and grabs the gun with his bare hand. The next gunshot is an explosion Laurent flinches away from, mentally cursing Gold Teeth’s stupidity and taking pleasure in the pained cry he hears next.

The tires screech when the van stops and Laurent opens his eyes to see Gold Teeth knocked unconscious by his side and Bloody Nose and Man no. 3 struggle to escape from the front seat.

“I’ll be right back,” Gladiator promises in a way too familiar voice and Laurent’s eyes widen.

Laurent is vaguely aware of the attention they’re drawing and that there are people staring and pulling phones to take pictures. He can hear screaming outside, and not only from the bad guys, and sirens going off and lots of noise in general, but he’s too busy kicking himself mentally to pay attention to all of that.

How Crimson Gladiator was nearby when Laurent was attacked as he left the campus… How he was in the library…

How Damen knew where to drop drunk Laurent off even though Laurent never told him his address.

Warm brown eyes and sparkly smiles fill his thoughts when Gladiator gently floats back to his side.

“We really have to stop running into each other like this,” Gladiator says, ripping the tape off of Laurent’s mouth.

“ _Damen.”_

Gladiator – no, Damianos – freezes for a moment, his eyes round like coins behind the mask. The same expression he wore when he saw Laurent at the party yesterday.

“Ahaha w-what?” Damen’s voice is higher than usual. “W-what are you saying? Who’s Damen? Did they hit your head or something? Let me take you to the hospital—”

“No one hit my head!” Laurent barks. “I know it’s you, dumbass, I see you almost everyday.”

“N-no, you’re… you got the wrong guy. I, huh, actually my name is Charls.”

Laurent hits Damen’s chest with both of his tied hands. “Don’t lie to me! You fucking clown! You think just because you’re wearing a skirt and a mask I won’t recognize you?”

Someone knocks on the ruined window of the car trying to get their attention. Outside, a policewoman wearing a slightly confused expression clears her throat.

“Gladiator? Can we help?”

“R-right!” Damen stands. He would have hit his head if the car still had a roof. “I mean, yes, officer. This one,” he points at the unconscious man by Laurent’s side, “and the other two tied up outside attempted to kidnap this young man here. This is not the first time I get them. What they’re doing out of jail is beyond me.”

The woman nods and turns to Laurent. “Are you okay? Do you need medical attention?”

“Actually,” Damen says before Laurent can even open his mouth, “he does and I’ll see to it. Can I trust you with the arrests while I take him to a hospital? Later you can question him.”

Another nod. “See you at the station later,” she says and she walks away speaking on a walkie-talkie. Laurent sees several of her colleagues trying to get civilians away from the scene, though lots of them are still loitering and trying to take pictures.

“C’mon.” Damen says, picking Laurent up like he had on the first time he saved Laurent’s life. “I’m gonna take you away from here. We need to talk.”

The promise of a talk stops Laurent from protesting, but, as they fly away from the scene, Laurent thinks to himself his pictures from last night are soon to be replaced by more popular pictures of him and Damen.

 

 

Surprisingly, Damen doesn’t take him to a hospital, but to his own house. Damen lives almost outside the city. His house is big enough and isolated enough to be the setting of a horror movie and Laurent had always found strange that Damen and Nikandros, both very wealthy and popular young men, would choose to live so far from civilization. As Damen carelessly flies home and lands on the porch, Laurent guesses the lack of neighbors is an advantage.

Only when they’re on the floor again does Damen realize Laurent still has his hands tied up. Instead of untying him like a reasonable person, Damen doesn’t think twice before snapping the rope like it’s nothing but a frail piece of wire. Laurent frowns.

“Show off.”

Damen smiles softly, but before he can say anything they hear a door opening.

“I thought you were taking the day off, Dam—” Nikandros stops on his tracks when he sees Laurent there. “ _Are you fucking kidding me, Damianos?”_

“Nik! This is not what it looks like.”

“What is it then? Oh my God! Do I need to remind you the last time you told your freaking significant other your secret identity? Do you even know what _secret_ means?”

Laurent leans against the frame of the door and watches the scene unfolding in front of him. The amazing Crimson Gladiator, famous for his super strength and his armor-like impenetrable skin, flinches and pouts like a dog that was caught chewing its owner’s shoes.

“I didn’t tell him! He figured it out on his own!”

“And of course you brought him here instead of denying it!” Nikandros throws his hands up in frustration. “I swear to fucking god, Damen, you’re giving me white hair! And you!” He dramatically points at Laurent. “Stay where you are and don’t contact anyone! I’ll be right back!”

And, just like came, he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Laurent raises an eyebrow at Damen.

“Sorry about him. Technically, he’s my manager. He’s supposed to organize my schedule and help me to protect my secret identity and shit. He gets angry when I break the rules, but he’s just looking after me.”

“Is he going to come back and kill me for finding out? Because I’m getting really tired all of these people trying to kill me.”

“No, he’s just going to prepare a lot of documents that say you legally can’t tell anyone who I am and force you to sign them.” Damen finally takes off his mask. “It’s not that big of a deal. Unless you were planning on snitching.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Laurent rolls his eyes. “You might stop saving me if I rat you out and, with my luck lately, I can’t have that.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that…”

On the other room, they hear Nikandros angrily talking to someone, most likely on the phone. Damen sighs and offers his hand to Laurent.

“Do you want something to drink? We have a lot of stuff to talk about.”

Laurent grabs his hand and follows him to the kitchen.

Damen lets him have a seat and gets the coffeemaker running before he excuses himself for a moment to change into something less superhero-ish.

As soon as he’s alone, Laurent lets himself fall apart under the weight of everything that had just happened. He was almost kidnapped. His crush is the superhero that’s been keeping him alive despite his uncle’s best efforts and he ripped off the roof of a car to save Laurent. Somewhere on the internet there is a picture of Laurent ugly laughing at some unknown joke. Time is a lie and nothing makes sense.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Damen says.

Laurent forces himself to sit up straight. If anyone asks him, the Damen that wears embarrassing denim shorts and sleeveless shirts feels like every inch of the hero that flies around in a mask.

“So,” Damen pours him a mug of coffee before he sits by his side. “I leave you for a couple of hours because I needed a shower and a change of clothes. I go back to check on you and you’re being dragged into a van. After someone’s pushed you out of a window. After the same people who tried to kidnap you attacked you in a dark alley. I’m starting to think these are not coincidences.”

“They are not.”

Damen waits in silence. His brown eyes are dark and sweet, but they also make Laurent reevaluate everything he’s doing. Under Damen’s gaze, Laurent always wants to be the best person possible. It feels like Damen is the right person to let inside his life. If he can't let Damen in, he'll never be able to let anyone else. He sighs and decides to honestly speak up.

“I think my uncle is trying to kill me.”

He waits for the dismissal. Like when he was young and he told people he didn’t want to live with his uncle anymore _. Don’t say that, Laurent_ , they’d tell him. _He’s the only family you have left and he’s looking after you. You should be grateful_.

Instead, Damen just looks upset.

“Why would he do that?”

“Money. When I turn 21, he stops administrating the money my parents left. I turn 21 in about two weeks and a half.”

Damen reaches for his hand and squeezes it softly. “How can we prove it is him?”

“You…” Laurent stares at him. “You believe me? No _he’s your family, Laurent_ and all of that bullshit?”

“Of course I believe you. Besides, I have plenty of experience with family trying to kill me.” At Laurent’s startled look, Damen just shrugs and says simply, “it’s a long story involving my brother, my ex-girlfriend and the period in which stress almost killed Nikandros. I’ll tell you someday. But your uncle. How do we get him in jail?”

“I… I don’t know.” Laurent admits helplessly. “We can get those guys to speak, but even if they say something, if we have no proof…” Laurent thinks of Nicaise alone with an abusive mother and all of the plans they made together. If Laurent accuses his uncle without any backup… “He can make life really difficult for me.”

“Yeah, I wonder how that would be." Damen scowls. "Laurent, he paid someone to push you out of a window.”

“I know, I was there. Just… give me a couple days. I’ll figure something out.”

Laurent can see that Damen is about to argue, so he decides to distract him instead:

“What happened last night?”

Damen looks startled by the question. “What do you mean…? Oh my God. You were so drunk you don’t remember?”

“My stomach was empty and I don’t usually drink.” Laurent shrugs. “Do the math.”

“Christ, Laurent. I mean… I think I’d want to pass out drunk if someone threw me off a window, too, but…”

“Defenestrate.”

“What?”

“Someone defenestrated me. That’s the word for throwing someone out of a window.”

“Why do we even have a word for that?”

“Tell me what I did while I was drunk, Damen.”

“Fine! Usually I’d tease you, but I guess you’re already having a rough day, so I’m not going to be a jerk. You didn’t do anything serious. You get a little more honest and a little touchy feely when you’re drunk, but you stayed with me the entire night.”

“What do you mean I get honest?”

“Hmm… You talked a lot about my ass. And my biceps. All good things, though.” A cheeky grin. Laurent groans.

“What else?”

“Well, it started playing Fergalicious and you really wanted to dance on the counter, so I decided to take you home.”

“I was so drunk I didn’t realize you _flew_ me home?”

“God, no! I have a car, man, I don’t fly everywhere.”

“What a waste. If I could, I’d fly everywhere.”

Damen rolls his eyes at that and finally starts drinking his coffee. Laurent follows his example, only because he’s hesitating to ask the next question and he doesn’t want Damen to notice. The coffee is already cold.

“Damen.”

“Yes?”

“What happened after you took me home?

Damen doesn’t need to think about it. “You were going on and on about how unfair it is that Susan didn’t go back for the final battle. Who is Susan, by the day?”

“Irrelevant.”

“Well, I tried to put you in bed, but you kept complaining about how hot it was and at this point I only understood half of the words you were saying, so I let you undress until you were in your underwear and I trapped you in your bed.”

“You trapped me in my bed,” Laurent parrots without inflection.

Damen nods. “Made a blanket burrito. Not gonna lie, I had to use my super strength. Do you work out? You’re way too strong for a Literature major. Anyway. You passed out right after that. I was too tired to drive home, so I slept in your couch instead. In the morning I didn’t know what to do, because I had to check my schedule to see if I could take a day off to be with you, but I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“That’s when you saw Jord.”

“And the rest is history.”

Laurent lets out a heavy sigh. Of course. Of course Damen slept in the fucking couch. Laurent knew he trusted him for a reason.

“Thank you. For… taking care of drunk me. I promise you won’t have to see me wasted like that often. Also… for saving my life. Again.”

Damen smiles so sweetly Laurent almost loses his breath. When Damen smiles at him like that, all of his defenses fall to the ground. Laurent feels almost as if he’s worthy of that affection.

It’s a great way to feel.

Laurent leans toward Damen. He does it out of his own will, because he _wants_ to. Damen doesn’t shy away. Instead, he leans forward as well. They’re a breath apart.

“Absolutely _no_ making out in my kitchen before your boyfriend signs a confidentiality agreement,” Nikandros snarls from the door.

Damen groans and let his head drop to Laurent’s shoulder. Equally disappointed, Laurent glares at Nikandros.

Unimpressed, Nikandros drops a pile of papers on the table. “Get to signing.”

Not without rolling his eyes first, Laurent reaches for the pile of papers. Damen pulls his chair closer and loops both of his arms around Laurent while he reads. Laurent doesn’t pull away.

 

 

Damen and Nikandros take Laurent to the police station so he can tell them his version of this morning’s incident. His kidnappers had said they heard Laurent is from a rich family and they wanted money. It seems like a reasonable excuse to kidnap someone, so they’ll be sent to jail and the police will not investigate any further unless Laurent say something against it. Laurent can’t prove anything, so he doesn’t.

Technically, it is still Damen’s day off, so Nikandros finally lets them have some privacy as Damen takes Laurent home. Unlike the first time he did that, he takes him by car.

Just like the first time Damen took him home, Nicaise is waiting by the building’s entrance and welcomes them with a very energetic “what the fuck, Laurent!”

“Good afternoon, Nicaise.”

“Good afternoon my butt! I leave you alone for two days and you party all night and then gets kidnapped and saved by the Gladiator _again_? What. The. Fuck!”

“It’s been a long weekend,” Laurent says calmly.

“Whatever.” Nicaise looks at Damen for a second and his look is too intent. He’s figuring something he shouldn’t, probably, but there is nothing Laurent can do about it. “Does your bodyguard over there knows your only living relative is literally Satan or do I have to wait until he leaves so we can talk about it?”

“Are you _sure_ this boy isn’t your little brother?” Damen asks softly.

Laurent rolls his eyes. “Inside, the two of you.”

Laurent orders takeout food for lunch and he lets Nicaise pick so he’ll stop being a prick. They end up sitting on the floor in the living room and using the coffee table to rest their plates while they eat, which is the last scenario in which Laurent would expect to discuss his imminent murder. He doesn’t complain.

“So.” It’s Nicaise who starts talking, obviously. “I hope you already figured out how to prove that your uncle is trying to kill you.”

“It’s a work in progress.”

“No man is flawless, Laurent,” Damen says. “Maybe if we get the police involved… We can ask for discretion. I, huh…” he gives a sideway look to Nicaise before murmuring, “I have quite a few detective friends. If they find something on your uncle…”

“He’ll sidestep it,” Laurent says. “I can’t take any risks, Damen. If I mess up, I’m done for.”

“But…”

“You don’t understand,” Nicaise interrupts. “Laurent’s uncle is way too smart. And he _knows_ Laurent. He knows everything Laurent does and doesn’t. The only reason Laurent is still alive is because of yo—I mean, because of the Crimson Gladiator.”

Damen twists his lips at Nicaise’s slip, probably wondering how bad Nikandros will want to kill him if he finds out a random kid knows his secret identity. Laurent doesn’t pay any mind to it, but he drops his fork.

“What?”

“That’s it. My uncle’s plans have been failing because there is something he can’t predict,” Laurent says, his voice flat. Suddenly, he’s not hungry anymore. There is a perfect plan in development in his mind and it’s as exciting as it makes him feel like puking. “I have to do the one thing he would never expect me to do.”

“And what is that?”

Laurent turns his gaze to Nicaise and Damen, wondering if they can see the fear and emptiness in his eyes.

“I have to go home.”

 

 

Everyone hates Laurent’s plan, but nothing they can say will change his mind.

It is perfect: his uncle’s time is running out and he ought to get reckless. Laurent will pretend he didn’t connect the dots and he’ll go back to his family’s house. He’ll tell his uncle he’s scared someone seems to be trying to kill him and he felt too unsafe in the campus, so the only thing he could do was to go back home – as if his so called home isn’t the unsafest place he can think off. It’s too good of a bait for his uncle to refuse.

Damen and Nicaise particularly hate the fact that Laurent is the bait, but Laurent manages to convince them. Finally they agree under the condition that Laurent won’t go alone and, well. He didn’t think he could pull this off alone either way.

It takes a lot of planning. Laurent needs to speak with his professors about his absence and manages to charm most of them. The few that won’t help him… Well. If he has to fail some classes, so be it. Laurent thinks Nikandros will be the biggest problem, but Nikandros looks appalled as if he was waiting for this to happen all along. He says he’ll rework Damen’s schedule the best he can – Laurent is only mildly surprised to find out that Damen’s work as superhero follows more or less the same schedule of a regular cop and that he works with the police most times.

Damen is called to help with a fire downtown, leaving Nikandros and Laurent conveniently alone.

“He’ll help you, so please, don’t seduce him,” Nikandros says without preamble.

Laurent glares. “Excuse me?”

“He’ll help you regardless,” he insists. “He’d do what he’s doing for you for anyone. So, please, don’t toy with his feelings.”

“I’m not toying with his feelings” Laurent says, too surprised by that notion to give a clever response.

“I know I can’t convince Damen to back off. I don’t want to stop him either way” Nikandros keeps going as if he didn’t hear Laurent, “because I'm sorry for your situation and I want to help you too. But not at the expense of his happiness.”

“Are you that shocked that someone is interested in him?” Laurent asks coldly. “That someone can genuinely like him?”

“Of course not. Most people like him. Do you?”

“Of fucking course I do!”

“Have you ever heard of the suspended bridge effect, Laurent?”

“You think I only like him because he saved my life,” Laurent says in a flat tone.

Nikandros raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

Laurent knows Nikandros is just looking after Damen, so he tries not to get angry and lash out at him. That’s what he usually does: push people away, lie and hide behind a wall of ice. Lately he’s been trying to let people in, to give leaps of trust. It has been working pretty well, surprisingly.

He crosses his arms and looks away, thinking of warm banter and soft gazes in a study room in the library.

“Don’t be stupid,” Laurent says. “I fell in love with Damianos way before I even saw him wearing that stupid mask.”

 

 

Laurent drives because he would probably freak out if he had nothing to do with himself in the two hour ride to the place he swore never to go back to. Damen doesn’t look much better on the passenger seat, fumbling with his sleeves and phone and his backpack and just being restless in general.

“You know…” Damen starts.

“Unless you have a better idea, then no, we’re not aborting the plan.”

Damen pouts. With a sigh, Laurent decides to try to distract him – and distract himself.

“Hey, how does it work? Being a superhero and stuff?”

“That’s… a broad question. What are you asking?” Damen stares at him.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Tell me about your work. Isn’t this what people do on dates? Talk about themselves?”

“I don’t really consider driving to your murderous uncle’s house a date,” Damen says. When Laurent doesn’t say anything, he leans back against the seat and starts talking. “I don’t know what to tell you. It’s more or less like any other job? I’m basically a cop with a different uniform.”

“And a secret identity.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because criminals tend to hate me more than your regular policeman, so it’s for the safety of my loved ones and stuff. But you’ve seen how it works with Nik. I have a salary and days off and everything.” He thinks about it for a second. “But I do carry my uniform with me all the time, just in case.”

“Like just in case you’re in a library and sees someone being defenestrated?”

“I can’t believe you can use that word casually and make it sound natural, but yeah.”

Laurent smiles softly and the silence that follows is less strained. Damen asks Laurent about his own work and Laurent is more than happy with the excuse to stop thinking about his uncle. He tells Damen about the project he’s developing this semester and Damen listens to him intently, with a soft smile on his lips.

They stop to grab dinner. Laurent doesn’t want to eat with his uncle, even though the food will probably not be poisoned. Not that Laurent would put poisoning past his uncle, but his uncle _probably_ doesn’t already have untraceable poison at hand. Just thinking about it makes Laurent want to vomit.

“You don’t have to do this,” Damen says when they leave the roadside restaurant. “We could think of something else.”

“Yes, I do. My uncle won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

They stop by the car.

“You’re not doing this for yourself, are you?”

Laurent thinks of Nicaise again and how sometimes Damen is cleverer than people give him credit for. “My uncle is trying to kill _me_. Who else would I’ve been doing this for?”

Damen shakes his head and reaches out to cup Laurent’s cheek in his hand. “I’m going to kiss you right now. Okay?”

Laurent’s heart skips a beat. “Okay.”

As he expected, Damen’s kiss is gentle and careful. Laurent relishes on how safe it feels, how right and comfortable, and all but melts against Damen’s chest.

 _This is real, this is happening_ , Laurent tells himself, a little bit too frantic, a little bit too elated. _Despite everything, Damen loves me_.

And, the most important of all, regardless of whatever has happened before, Laurent is capable of loving him too.

 

 

Technically speaking, Laurent isn’t fighting alone anymore. It’s an unnerving and exciting thought at the same time.

Literally speaking, Laurent sits alone in his car when he enters the De Vere property. He kissed Damen goodbye minutes ago, promising him the alarming system is very likely be turned off tonight and that he would be fine. He was uncertain about both promises, but he tried lying to himself as well. His hands were sweaty when the butler came to welcome him and take his coat.

Laurent looks around and, startled, he realizes that he has forgotten the details of his childhood home.

“Laurent,” a deep voice calls, sending chills down Laurent’s spine.

His uncle walks down the stairs towards Laurent and it takes every inch of his will to stay where he is. While he is wearing a pleasantly surprised mask, Laurent knows him well enough to recognize the calculating coldness in his icy eyes. Like Laurent imagined, his uncle never expected him to come back and he’s desperately trying to imagine what Laurent is planning.

“Uncle,” Laurent greets, his voice tight. He tries to sound cornered. It isn’t difficult.

“What a surprise, nephew. You never come home not even during break. And yet…”

“Some… things happened in the University,” Laurent says. “I needed a break and… There really wasn’t anyone I could talk about this or _trust_ or…” he shakes his head and turns his gaze away. “I didn’t know where else to go, so I came back.”

Laurent turns again to his uncle, trying to muster in his expression all the emotions he needs to convey to make his story believable. He tries to look upset and scared, hesitant and with shattered pride. This part of his plan relies completely on his uncle’s arrogance. He needs his uncle to think Laurent was never suspicious of him or else nothing will work.

It takes another silent moment and then a small smile appears on his uncle’s face. Smug. Pleased. Laurent’s heart threatens to jump out of his chest. His uncle believed.

“Whatever happened that made you so upset, nephew?”

“It’s just… Nothing I can prove, for now. I don’t want to talk about it, so… I’m just going to stay here a couple of days.”

“Of course. I’ll ask the maid to prepare your room and… maybe a cup of tea? We could sit down together and catch up like the old times.”

 _Like the old times_. Laurent can barely hide his nausea. He shakes his head to gain some time before he controls his voice. “I had some iced tea on the way here. It was a long drive, so I just want to get some rest.”

“Of course.” The smile on his face is vicious. ”Welcome home, nephew.”

As soon as his uncle leave the room, Laurent buries his face in his hands to calm down.

 

 

Even if he wasn’t alone in a house with the man who’s trying to kill him, Laurent doesn’t think he’d be able to sleep. Instead, he paces around his childhood room. Most of his things are gone, leaving only basic furniture and small decorations. Laurent tries to think of good memories, like the times he played with Auguste or when his mother was alive and would sing him to sleep. It’s hard to recall. Most of his memories of this house are tainted. He promises himself that, as soon as he’s the legal owner he well have it demolished and sold.

It’s past midnight when a soft knock on the glass window makes him jump. Damen is there.

“What the—” Laurent opens the window. “We’re on the second floor.”

“And I can fly,” Damen whispers, easily getting in. “You were right. There wasn’t any alarm or dogs.”

“Of course I was right. He probably sent the house staff home, too. I didn’t expect him to act on the first night, but I guess my return did make him cocky. What are you doing here?”

Damen stares at him weird. “You didn’t think I was going to leave you all alone, did you?”

Of course. _Of course._

“So… what do you think your uncle is planning?”

“I don’t know. He needs to make it look like an accident. You’re the superhero and deals with more murderers than I do. You”

“Hey, you’re the smart one.” Damen frowns, as if something just occurred to him. “And the pretty one. What the hell, Laurent! If you got the looks and the wits, what am I bringing to this relationship?”

Laurent snorts. He didn’t think it was possible to find anything funny in this kind of situation, but well, this is Damen. Making the impossible possible is a talent of his.

“Damen, even if you weren’t ridiculously kind and attractive, you are _literally_ a superhero.”

Damen opens his mouth to say something – probably something dumb that will make Laurent feel less like he’s going to puke out of anxiety and more like he’s just panicking – but his next words are muffled by a terrible scream. Somewhere in the house, Laurent’s uncle calls his name in a desperate tone Laurent has never heard before.

For a frantic moment, Laurent thinks he was wrong all along. That there is in fact another person trying to kill him and he brought them here to kill his uncle. In that moment, Laurent is almost grateful to his hypothetic murderer and feels disgusted at the same time. Before he has time to dwell on any of these feelings, he bolts to the door with Damen right behind him.

Laurent gets to the living room first and, for the second time in his life, he’s greeted with a gun pointed straight at his face. His uncle is the one holding it.

Laurent loses his breath as several things happen at the same time: a strong hand pulls him out of the way. There is no explosion noise like the last time, but there is a bullet hole on Damen’s shirt, although there is no blood. The next thing that happens is that Laurent’s uncle falls down in agony, holding a bloody leg.

This is not how Laurent expected the night to go.

 

 

The policeman gives Laurent a blanket. The blanket does nothing to calm his nerves, but he keeps it, to be polite.

His uncle tried to kill him. For some reason, it feels worse than when he sent men to do the job. But then, he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always known that his uncle was a cold bastard. That he pointed at gun at the only family he had left shouldn’t be a shock. The plan was simple, something that his uncle had come up with in a hurry and out of desperation: Laurent was at home after a long time right in the night a bunch of thieves burled the security system. Laurent would hear a suspicious noise and get out of bed to investigate only to be shot several times by one of the thieves that would be long gone before his uncle, an old and frail man, had the opportunity of calling the police.

It would have worked perfectly, if he hadn’t shot Laurent’s bulletproof boyfriend instead.

The fact that the bullets had ricocheted right back to his leg was almost poetic, really. Laurent would be laughing if he wasn’t so freaked out.

By his side, Damen had changed into his ridiculous red uniform and is wearing a mask as they wait to give their statements. Laurent’s uncle was taken to a hospital in handcuffs and escorted by more than one policeman. Apparently, you get this kind of treatment when you are caught by Crimson Gladiator himself.

Laurent watches police officers walking in a hurry and complaining about the press outside – apparently, word spread that police was called to the De Vere mansion and a superhero was spotted there, so people are curious about it. In a haze, Laurent thinks vaguely that it’s going to be a pain to deal with that.

“He’s already under arrest,” Damen tells him, probably noticing his empty stare. “By the time he faces trial, you’ll be legally an adult and there is nothing he can do.”

“There are plenty of things he can do,” Laurent hears himself saying. “We are the only witnesses. He tried to kill me in a night in which a superhero was conveniently there to save me. He….”

“Laurent.” Damen interrupts him. “There is plenty of evidence that he was the one to shoot the gun. And you’re going to find out that my testimony weighs a lot more than of a regular witness. You’re not alone. It’s going to be fine.”

Laurent swallows hard. When he says it like that, it sounds like the truth. It feels like the truth. Laurent realizes that he believes Damen when he thinks to himself that he should text Nicaise telling him to start packing his stuff.

“You are going to be fine,” Damen promises, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

Laurent leans into the touch, not completely calm yet, but comforted. “I know,” he says. That, too, feels like the truth.


End file.
